Up in Flames
by petey L
Summary: Fire has already destroyed most of the Winchester family. What will happen when it tries to take another piece?
1. Prologue

This idea just came to me randomly so I think I'll give it a shot. Tell me what you think. I would love to hear what you guys think my idea. Like everything else I've written so far, this story is set pre-series. I haven't pinned down specific ages for the boys yet, but I'll let you guys know when I do. As always I don't own anything.

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Fire, it had to be fire. Fire had destroyed everything important in Sam Winchester's life. It had burned his mother alive, and destroyed the only home his small family would have the chance of knowing. Fire had burned away his father's soul till only a small, sad part remained. There was no doubt in Sam's mind that his father had died that night, right along side his mother, and Dean's childhood.

And now (thanks to the angry spirit), fire was about to take away his everything. Fire was going to destroy his brother Dean.

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Pretty good for a prologue no? Let me know what you think. As always, thanks for reading

_-PeteyL_


	2. How it All Began

Sorry guys couldn't leave this idea alone. I just had to write some more.

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**THE PREVIOUS DAY**

Emma West had lived in the small town of Daker, Indiana her whole life. She was born there, died there, and now her ghost haunted the family house there. Textbook case of an angry spirit, or so John's research told him. The hot July weather had yet to penetrate the air-conditioned cool of the town library as John read on about Emma's unfortunate demise. Apparently, a cheating ex boyfriend did not appreciate Emma's snooping.

John finally thought his luck was turning around, until he found that Emma had been cremated. No body to burn this time. Now he had to find some small object that was keeping Emma pinned down to the house. This hunt just became slightly more dangerous, but nothing him and the boys couldn't handle.

Fate seemed to have other plans. In every photo John could find of her in that tiny library, she was wearing the same brass locket. Even if she wore a dress, a tell tale lump, and a hint of gleaming brass could always be seen poking out. To top it all off, one newspaper obituary even mentioned that her signature jewelry piece was lovingly placed in her jewelry box in her room after her service. Now all John had to do was find a locket in a big house, burn it, and hopefully not piss off the spirit in the process. Piece of cake.

City Hall was more than forth coming with the blue prints to the West's house blue prints once John flashed one of his badges. John grabbed his plans, and his research and headed out into the Impala. After grabbing some food for dinner, he headed back tot eh motel. Lord knows he had left the boys in there alone too long already. Usually they were good kids, and John could trust hem by themselves for days, but it was summer break and it was hot so it wouldn't take an idiot to figure out that the boys were antsy. An antsy Sammy was never a good thing. John was mildly surprised the motel was not destroyed when he got back. Sam had more of a creative streak than Dean and had a habit of bouncing off the walls when trapped inside for too long. Of course Dean had his outlets, something John preferred not to think about. Thankfully the few times angry fathers had come knocking John hadn't been home.

After dinner, Sam ran off and turned on the TV. Dean helped clean up as John got all his research out.

Dean sat down at the table and asked, "Need any help with this Dad?"

John gave a slight sigh, "No Ace I'm good. For once I think this is going to be a pretty straightforward hunt. Easy stuff, don't worry about it." He could not have been more wrong.


	3. Lost Amongst the Flames

Just a quick warning this chapter is going to be a tid bit longer than what you're used to getting from me so enjoy it while it lasts. Unfortunately I don't own anything here, but a girl can Dream can't she?

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**NOW:**

The old two story Victorian home on the edge of town had ceased being a house. It was now a towering inferno. The aged wooden beams were crumpling into ash. The walls were quickly filling with flames, leaving a blackened mess in their wake. The once sweet smelling air inside the house was thick with smoke.

This was the last place Sam Winchester wanted to be. This was just supposed to be a simple salt and burn. They just had to find that stupid necklace the spirit was attached to and burn the damn thing. Easy as pie, those were Dean's words. The way things were going Sam wasn't sure if Dean was going to be saying any more words.

John had gone upstairs to burn the locket while Dean was supposed to keep an eye on Sammy down stairs and be ready incase the spirit. Of course John found the locket and burned it. Unfortunately in her last seconds Emma decided to spread some of the fire that was burning the last tangible piece of her wretched soul.

Originally they were just a small spark, landing on the dust-covered curtains framing the cracked windows. The think salmon fabric wasted no time in bursting out in flames. The crackling orange monster reached out its burning tentacles and grabbed hold of the ceiling and the wall it touched. From there the flames had traveled across the living room both boys were standing in. Sammy stood there, awe struck, and turned towards Dean. He could see the unbridled terror in Dean's eyes. Looking around the room, Sam began to understand Dean's deep-seated fear of fire.

The house was quickly becoming a towering inferno. Dean looked over and saw Sam staring at him. In that moment he flashed back to the moment he ran through the blazing house carrying a crying baby Sammy out the front door of his only home all those years again. The need to save that precious bundle and shelter it from all the evil in the world rose up within Dean and he snapped to attention. His primary objective became "get Sammy out of here!" With that mantra in mind Dean grabbed Sam's arm and ran towards the front door and pushed Sam outside into the clean air. He spared his baby brother one last glance and said, "Stay here Sammy. I'm going to get Dad. Don't you even think about following me." With that, Dean Winchester disappeared into a billowing cloud of smoke and fire.

Dean had to cover his mouth and nose with the ratty sleeve of his shirt so he could breathe. The air was quickly being replaced by smoke as he climbed the stairs. Thankfully they were still intact. The air was barely breathable on the top landing. He started coughing so hard from all the crap he was breathing in; he had to get down on all fours just so he could take a breath. Crawling around was ungodly embarrassing, but his need to protect his family was greater than any embarrassment Dean could possibly feel. He crawled across the creaking hard wood floor, checking into every door that he passed. He was about to give up hope of finding his father by the time he reached the last door on the right. What was inside nearly made his heart stop.

John Winchester was sprawled face down on the thick carpet, unmoving. A billion possible situations ran through his head as he got up and sprinted to his father's side. He did a perfect slide up to his father that would have been the envy of any baseball coach anywhere. He took a second to look over his father. Nothing seemed to be wrong, but Dena needed to get him out of there now. He knew he could carry most of John's weight if need be, but Dean knew that his body wouldn't be able to get his dad out of here, and there was no way in hell Dean was letting Sam back in this death trap. He needed his Dad to walk out of here on his own power.

Dean took as deep of a breathe of the smoke filled, putrid air as he could and gave John's shoulder a rough shake and said, "Dad! Dad! You have to wake up! Come on Dad we need to get out of here!" A harsh cough rattled his frame as he crouched down.

John wasn't sure how he ended up on the floor. One second he was burning that bitch's locket, the next he's getting an up close and personal view of her choice of rugs. His addled brain tried to piece together what woke him up. He remembered hearing a voice yelling and someone shaking his shoulder. He was lying that staring up at the ceiling trying to get his bearings when a harsh cough sounded off to his left side. He looked over and saw Dean doubled over, covered in soot and shaking from the force of his lungs trying to dispel the unwanted smoke. His fatherly instinct kicked into overdrive after seeing his child in such a terrible state. John quickly sat up, and hi head spun. He gave it a second to clear and then he grabbed Dean and tried to get the kid up on his feet. For some reason the air smelled of thick smoke and it was hard as hell to breathe. He needed to know what was going on now if h was going to get both of them out.

John waited till Dean looked him in the eye, then he asked, "What the hell is going on here Dean?"

Dean blinked owlishly for less than a second then replied, "I don't know, the ghost was disappearing like they usually do when you salt and burn them but his one sent out a spark and it ignited the curtains and then it spread to the ceiling and the walls, oh god Dad. We have to get out of here!"

"Calm down Dean. Let's get moving then. Where's your brother?"

They made their way to the staircase as quickly as possible. Dean was trying to conserve his air but he eventually answered, "He's outside Dad. I already got him out then I came back in for you."

"You did a good job Dean. Now lets get out of here." With that John opened up the front door and exited into the clean twilight air.

Dean was about to follow his Dad outside when he heard a noise behind him. He turned and saw Sam backed into a corner surrounded by fire. Dean's heart leapt into his throat and he made a mad dash for his little brother screaming, "SAMMY!!" as loud as he could. John turned around just in time to see Dean race towards a huddled form in the corner. His mind took a second to connect the dots, but when it did, he did not like the picture it formed. His boys, his world was still inside the house, and the burning ceiling was about to collapse. He raced towards the boys as Dean grabbed Sam, and pulled him to his feet. Both boys took off in a dead sprint towards their father, dodging burning patches of floorboard.

Sam heard a loud creak break through the ominous silence that settled in the house. The sound of crackling flames had long since settled into the background, becoming nothing more than white noise. Sam felt so helpless waiting for his brother to save the day. On an impulse he rushed back into the house, only to be corned by the ever-increasing flames. The noise caused Sam to cast his eyes sky ward. He helplessly watched as a burning piece of the ceiling broke off and plummeted straight for him. He let out a small terrified yelp and brought his hands up to try and protect his head.

At the last possible second he was shoved hard, and he landed with a thud on the ancient, warm wooden planks. He looked behind him and stared in complete horror at the seen behind him.

The only things visible beneath the burning chunk of ceiling were a few wisps of charred blond hair, and a pale, limp hand.


	4. Burned Away

**Hey guys, this story started off as an idea I had in the back of my head. I really didn't have it planned out beyond the last chapter so I'm just making this up as I go. Wish me luck! All standard disclaimers apply. Well, Here goes nothing!**

_Previously: The only things visible beneath the burning chunk of ceiling were a few wisps of charred blond hair, and a pale, limp hand. _

Sam stood still in muted horror, staring at the space his brother used to occupy. His eyes watering from the smoke, Sam jut stood there and stared at the tiny bit of his brother showing beneath the burning ceiling. He wasn't sure if it was just the smoke inhalation making, but he could have sworn a piece of his soul had dropped out, and all that was left was a hollow hole where his heart had been. _Oh God, I think he's dead. Please don't be dead Dean. Please, you have to stay. I can't do this without you. Come on Dean wake up! _The tears forming in his eyes had nothing to do with the abrasive smoke.

John was on his hands and knees just outside the door coughing up all the smoke forced into his lungs when he heard Sam scream. He turned around, eyes stinging, at one of the very images that haunted his dreams at night. One of his boys was dead. Dean was dead. He was crushed beneath a piece of burning ceiling. In one of his many, many nightmares about the night Mary died, something like this had happened. It scared John down to the very core of his soul. He just sat still for a moment trying to process what was going on around me. Out of nowhere, he registered Sam hysterically screaming. He was still inside the house, and he was rushing towards the flames.

Personal safety was the last thing on Sam's mind. If Dean was dead then he was as well so there was no reason not to rush into the burning building after his brother. The air was sweltering, and barely breathable. The heat defied words. In all those pictures of hell he'd seen, and every time Pastor Jim described it in one of his sermons he hadn't thought a world of flames would be this horrible. He could have sworn that the sweat pouring out of him was instantly evaporating. With some artful dodging, Sam avoided the burning parts of the floor, and found a small safe spot by his brother. Dean still hadn't moved and Sam was starting to worry even more. He fell to his knees by Dean's singed hair, and tried to move the board off. Sam gripped the coolest part of the board and heaved. It scraped up an inch or two, just enough for Sam to get a glimpse of Dean's body, before his arms gave out and the board collapsed against Dean with a smack. Dean twitched minutely when the board hit him, but he still was unresponsive to the peril around him.

"Come on! Dean wake up!" Sam screamed futility at no one in general. The combined weight of his bad luck and the reality of the situation bore down on him like a tsunami.

He almost jumped a foot in the air when he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard his father say, "Sam you need to get outside right now. The house isn't safe."

"I'm not going without Dean!" he shouted back.

"Sam you need to get outside right now. Do you think Dean would like you getting burnt to a crisp?"

Sam stared at his dad for a few more seconds then turned and worked his way out of the house with tears streaming down his face. The pure, clean country air burned his lungs as he staggered out of the house. The rotting steps groaned loudly as he rushed down them. He fell to his knees coughing, and trying to draw in a decent breath, just feet from his own personal hell. Once his lungs cleared, he turned his watery gaze back towards the house. Flames were coming out the shattered windows on the second floor. A pillar of black smoke rose from the carcass and the remaining wood groaned loudly.

Sam turned his back to blazing house. He couldn't bare to watch himself become an orphan.


End file.
